


To See The Dead

by superfandomqueen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Downs, Canonical Character Death, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance is a Necromancer/Medium, Langst, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Panic Attack, Shiro is a Medium, Supernatural Elements, Tears, Veronica is a Necromancer/Medium, injuries, some soft scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 08:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfandomqueen/pseuds/superfandomqueen
Summary: Lance could always see them. He didn't realize why no one else saw them. Not for a while. He was ten when he first saw Veronica cry.





	To See The Dead

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about necromancy or spiritual medium stuff. I literally just sat down and wrote for 3 straight(HAH!) hours. Sorry if anything offends you, but this is how I was seeing it.  
> Is it just me, or is the tense funky? Idk how this happened, but it did.

Lance could always see them. For the longest time he hadn’t understood. So many passed him by, following others, and he’d always wave at them. They looked so surprised that someone acknowledged them. He would automatically step out of their way.

To everyone else, he was moving around blank space.

It wasn’t until he was five and asked his mami about it did he start to understand. He asked during dinner.

“Who are those people that follow the other people around? Why doesn’t anyone notice them?” He had asked.

His mami started crying, his papi just looked so sad. Lance didn’t understand then. Veronica had been near tears. Luis and Marco stabbed their food, not looking in his direction. Rachel hadn’t understood either.

  


When he was ten, he asked one of them what happened. It was a middle aged woman in an alleyway, she had hollow cheeks and was slumped against the wall. At least, that was what he _thought_. She was barely holding herself from stumbling through the wall again.

“Why are you crying? What happened?” He had asked. The woman jolted, looking at him surprised.

“Y-you can _see_ me?” Lance nodded, thinking nothing of it. “H-how? I’m...I’m dead.”

“You’re dead, but I can see you?”

“I don’t know what happened,” she answered, breaking down. No tears appeared, but she slid to the ground and _howled_. The sobs shook him to the core.

Lance started to understand. That night, he spoke quietly, not quite looking at his family. All through dinner, he had been quiet.

“I can see the dead.”

The table froze. He had expected rebuffs, disbelief, scoffs. He got none of that. There were solemn looks.

“You know now then,” his mami spoke quietly. Shoving back her chair, Veronica had stomped out of the room. Later, he would find out that she went to cry in her room, she hadn’t wanted any of her siblings to see ghosts. But before that, he learned more about his family. He had _known_ but hadn’t thought it applied to him too.

His family was full of nature witches, psychics, and necromancers-slash-mediums(those that could just see the ghosts, but not really interact with them). He was the latter. So was Veronica. Lance supposed if it wasn’t for them both being necromancers, they wouldn’t have bonded and become so close, he wouldn’t have followed her to the Garrison, or ended up in space, but that detail was irrelevant. Rachel, Luis, and Mami were nature witches, drawing on the earth to perform magic. Marco and Papi were psychics, seeing glimpses of the future, mere snapshots, or the passing thoughts of others.

  


When he was 14, Veronica was the first to find him. Collapsed on the floor, sobs wracking his body, and a bottle clasped in his hands and pressed to his chest.

She had coaxed the bottle out of his hand, apologizing to him, telling him that nothing ever takes away the feeling, that he had to push through it and ignore it to do anything. Veronica had apologized more that night then he had ever heard her apologize before. Not that she had ever had real reasons to apologize like that.

Maybe that was why he tried for the Garrison so hard. Pushing back the ghosts, ignoring them, blocking them out, putting on a smile.

Call it edgy, goth, or whatever the hell, Lance didn’t care. Him and Veronica would visit cemeteries together, whether just to chill or speak with the ghosts or watch the ghosts move around. They would do it together, never mentioning it to their family. It was their thing. The ghosts appreciated the company too. Lance learned a lot in those visits. How far his powers went.

He could summon ghosts, with some struggle it was easier for Veronica, he _couldn’t_ fully resurrect someone -- _thank God_. Resurrecting things were not only tricky, but dangerous. He could speak to ghosts, he could touch them, he could force them back.

  


He could cut his connection fully. Well, almost fully. There was always the occasional ghost that slipped through, the connection is always there if he ever wanted to open it. That gave him a peace of mind, mostly, he couldn’t hear or feel their pain. For the first while, it was strange. He would still brush against the ghosts, but he couldn’t see them there.

He first blocked them out when he got into the Garrison, he had to focus on his studies. Lance had a roommate. A completely and utterly _normal_ roommate. His name was Hunk. Hilarious, lovable, he could make Lance forget the whispers in the back of his mind.

A healing salve to his wound.

  


Even passing by Keith was strange, Lance didn’t pick up on it at first. On top of Keith ignoring and being a straight up ass, Lance would always stumble like he ran into _something_. Or rather, _someone_.

Lance couldn’t resist looking.

It was an older man. Without Keith’s stupid mullet, but the same black hair, warm dark eyes, and stood much taller than him. Both Keith and Lance. He always wore a soft sad look.

That week, Lance’s grades took a serious nose dive. He had been distracted by the mass amount of ghosts following them around. He claimed it was because he had _nearly_ spoken to his hero. Hunk bought it. After all, Lance had some serious hero worship of the man. That wasn’t quite true, it was his conversation with Takashi’s  _ghosts._

Takashi Shirogane’s ghosts were his parents. They couldn’t move on, they want to make sure he was happy and held on with an iron fist. Lance convinced them though, coaxing them to letting him go. That they would do more harm than good. He had found out more than he ever thought he would about Takashi.

His illness, despite it he still worked his way up the ladder and was at a high level for someone _his_ age, that Takashi saw weird things that couldn’t be explained — that had given Lance _hope,_  stupid idiotic hope, but that it was — and was a massive dork. Lance listened to them chatter on about their son _for hours_ , he had missed sleep, forgotten about an assignment he had due, just to listen to them. He had to stalk Takashi around, since they refused to let him out of their sight.

Even though his grades had dropped and his teachers had given him dirty and suspicious looks — he brought his grades right back up again and even better — Lance didn’t regret it for a minute. It gave them peace and Lance watched them go peacefully.

  


Then he removed himself, again. As hard as it was, after feeling something so _rewarding_. Helping them felt good. But the good feeling would be cancelled out by the bad, the torturous feeling of not being able to help.

Lance focused on other things. He became more aloof, goofy, flirting with anyone, joking about everything, pretending not to take things seriously. Hunk adjusted to the _new_ Lance. Veronica continued to watch him carefully, he knew he was worrying her. But it wasn’t anymore worrying then her forced calm, but that eventually relaxed and became apart of her easily.

  


Time seemed to pass quickly and so slowly at once. Before Lance knew it, he was in space. He stumbled into ghosts, but refused to look at them. They seemed to be everywhere. Not hard to believe, since they were in a war.

The only time he had looked, it had _hurt_ so much. Lance couldn’t stop himself from telling Allura. Telling her that her parents were proud of her.

Thank God she never brought it up.

  


Everything had been going _relatively_ well with his abilities. Until the Omega Shield. Then it was Hell. Going downhill like he was on a bicycle with no brakes, not knowing if he could stop or just crash. He _knew_ that he died. It was hard not to.

When Lance first got back onto the castle, he got away from Allura and Shiro as fast as he could. The ghosts surrounding them was painful. So many of them, he wasn’t sure if he could see them if he tried to look.

Pressing his back against the wall, Lance had slid down to the floor, sobbing. He _couldn’t_ block them anymore.

That had been the first tell.

The second was how _loud_ they were. Instead of whispering and low tones, which Lance had grown used to when speaking with them, it was loud. Ranging from normal tones to loud yelling and screaming.

Lance flinched and almost never looked at Shiro for very long anymore. It was _too_ hard.

Lance had started retreating to the Lions’ hangers. It was better there, less death, less ghosts. It wreaked havoc on his sleep, stealing away precious sleep.

So, _so_ many of the ghosts were screaming and yelling, trying to get attention of _somebody_.

  


It hadn’t taken long. Before he sat down.

He sat in the same place in the hall for hours, just _listening_ to their stories.

None too soon, they were on their way home. The long trip was worth it. If Lotor’s ghost would stop sobbing and apologizing for his betrayal, it would’ve be better.

The battle was long and harsh. Lance woke to find his family. Tears, hugs, and Spanish. He was _home_. Lance couldn’t be happier —  _well that’s a lie, but it’s the thought that counts_.

  


Even with Shiro, white haired and a new arm. Lance manages, this time burying his unrequited feelings. Pulling them away from the new leader of Atlas.

Shiro with his soft words and oh-so comforting presence — reminding Lance he wasn’t the only one that died — late in the night, when Lance is watching the sky. “Hey,” Shiro murmured.

“Hey.”

Lance was ignoring the ghosts that night. Shiro’s stayed at the door.

“Beautiful night.”

Lance nodded in agreement. He knew he didn’t act like he used. More tired, little more exhaustion, not quite so happy.

The silence was comfortable. He had no idea when he fell asleep. He just knew he woke the next morning in his bed, even tucked in.

Lance was _certain_ Shiro’s small smile was directed towards him that morning. It wasn’t hard to believe that they started meeting during the night when they couldn’t sleep. It just _happened_.

And it was one of the best things to happen to him.

  


Lance knew he should’ve expected Veronica to pick up some being not quite _right_ about him. But he hadn’t expected her showing up to his room looking extremely frayed at the edges.

She was shaking from her head to her toes. “Vero…”

“What happened, Lance?” Veronica demanded, tears brimming her eyes, her tone _begging_.

“ _Nothing_ happened, Vero.”

She hit his chest, just hard enough to hurt. “That’s a _lie_ and you know it!”

He hadn’t seen her this shaken since she had found him drinking because of ghosts. Or even when she had come and talked to him after he realized that he was a necromancer.

“Vero,” Lance said softly. Closing his eyes, rubbing them, Lance stifled a sigh. So much had happened.

“Y-you…” Lance didn’t know what to do when the tears started up, he had never seen her cry like this before. “You _died_ didn’t you?!” Veronica pulled back and started pacing back and forth. “Your aura feels _different_ now. Marc saw _glimpses_! I’ve nearly walked into you even thought I was looking _right at you_! You stare at everything around like you’re seeing ghosts all the time, but as far as _I_ know, you block them out! You _feel_ dead, like...like a ghost!” Veronica spun to face him, tears straining her cheeks, her hands gesturing into the air. “Like Shiro! Lance, _what_ happened?”

“I’m sorry.” That’s all he could say.

“Don’t. Don’t say that! Like it’ll fix everything! Like...like you didn’t _die_. Lance, _please_ , tell me you didn’t.”

Lance couldn’t hold back his own tears. “There were lots of near death experiences.”

“No! No. _Everyone_ reached out to their bonds with you. It was there for _so_ long. It kept us _going_ , giving us hope that you were alive. Wherever the Hell you were! Then it disappeared out of nowhere! _Only_ I had a connection with you—” Veronica covered her mouth, muffling a heart-wrenching sob. “ _Please_ , please tell me—”

“I’m sorry.” He _was_. There wasn’t anything he could do to change the fact. That he died. That he disappeared. That he went into space for 4 years and fought in a war. That he definitely isn’t the Lance she used to know.

His sister’s knees gave out then. She slumped. Her body language more open then he had ever seen in years. Their own ways of coping with shit they could see that no one else could. Veronica’s body shook with sobs.

Lance fell to his knees, crawling forward. Cradling her in his arms. They lost track of time, both crying and murmuring nonsense.

Somewhere along the line, they ended up wrapped up on his bed. Tears dried up, they had cried all they could. Lance could only vouch for himself, his chest felt hollow after that. The ghosts were quiet, even the angry ones knowing better too.

  


Lance clearly remembered the next quiet moment he had with Shiro. They were on the roof, pointing out constellations to each other and testing their astronomy.

Lance couldn’t say who moved first, not after their tickle fight. Tumbling and rolling across the roof, giggling like a couple of school girls. Tears of laughter in the corners of their eyes. He was laying on top of the elder man, staring into his eyes. Far too deeply to be platonic. He knew he was in _deep_.

Lance’s eyes fluttered, almost shut as their lips brushed. So gentle, feather light. Just as he was to go in for more, his phone’s alarm went off.

Lance groaned, evoking a chuckle from Shiro. Pulling it out, Lance resisted the mild urge to get off of Shiro and salvage the situation. _Too much work_ , he joked. Slumping down, his ear laying over Shiro heart and he raised the phone up.

Squinting at the screen, he read the time. _3:45am_. He had a goal of returning to bed, at the very least, at that time if he wasn’t already.

“Guess I gotta go and try to sleep,” Lance murmured, _just_ loud enough to hear. “ _In_ my bed.”

“May I join you?”

Lance blinked up at him, a smile spreading across his face. He hadn’t expected that, but it was a nice surprise. He nodded.

One of the best night of sleep he had gotten for a _while_.

There had been casual touches, soft smiles. More nights shared together.

Lance wanted to date him, but… the ghosts only grew in number. The hesitancy he held made him pull back. He could admit that he had been scared then. 

  


It had gone downhill real fast after that.

After a particular battle. The ghosts were overwhelming again, the screaming, the yelling. They were just all _so angry_. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it had been the worst.

He could hear the others, leaning against the inner walls of Red trying not to blackout. It was the _worst_ when the angry ones figured out they could hit him. Always lead to them bruising and leaving cuts him.

“What’s happening?” Veronica demanded. Lance could’ve cried.

“Where’s Lance?” _Shiro_. Now, he _was_ crying. This really was the _worst_. The person he loves seeing at the lowest of his powers, seeing the damage that it can cause. More than just mentally. It was physically, emotionally, and mentally draining.

Those were the days he would’ve done _anything_ to be a medium, not to be able to interact with ghosts.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t left Red.” Keith’s tone was worried. Lance smiled drily.

 _They had come_ so _far from the rivalry._

Forcing himself up, Lance slapped on a goofy grin. Ignoring the pain spasming in his ribs and head, Lance asked Red to open up.

Limping down the ramp with a hAlf-cocked smile, Lance could remember that his team, Veronica, and Shiro had been there.

“What the _quiznack_ happened?” Keith blurted out, forgetting his word filter. Well, what there was of it.

“Vero, rhetorical question,” Lance started. He was _sick_ of secrets. He hoped the _Hell_ that they believed him, there was weirder shit that had happened to him than ghosts beating the shit out of him. “Can PO-ed ghosts give you a concussion?”

Her eyes widened comically, Lance would’ve laughed if it wouldn’t have hurt like a bitch to laugh. Her tone was warning.

“Lance, what the fuck?”

Lance closed his eyes, _still_ smiling, blocking out the lights. “I’m getting _real_ tired of fucking ghosts figuring out my shit. _Surely_ they can find someone else.”

Veronica blinked. _Oh, she hadn’t realized_ that _side-effect of his death._

“What about a block?”

“I would if I could,” Lance murmured. Opening his eyes, only to squint at the bright lights. “I _might_ need to go to the infirmary. 50-50 chance I’m bruised and got some broken shit.”

He had limped forward, Veronica meeting him before he could get far. Shiro right behind her. “What the fuck, Lance? Is this a side effect?”

“Side effect of what?” Hunk asked, his pitch going painfully high. Veronica slipped her arm around him, Lance didn’t care anymore, leaning into her and taking weight off of his aching legs.

“Yup, apparently the combination of being a strong necromancer and dying heightens your senses to the dead,” Lance said casually. He could’ve heard a pin drop with the silence that followed.

“We’re getting your dumb fucking ass to the infirmary,” Veronica swore, scowling at him. Lance patted her arm, his head lolling onto her shoulder.

“Okay, Vero. Wake me when we get there.”

He had come in and out of consciousness, not remembering the trip to the infirmary or being woke up constantly.

Through it all, Lance had remembered an old conversation.

  


He had woken up slowly, his vision clearing as he tried to sit up. Veronica snapped something at him, telling him to lay down. He didn’t listen. Probably pissed her off more.

His team, Coran, Shiro, and Veronica sat next to his bed. Their expressions varying in concern and worry. Hunk looked on the verge of tears, Keith had a shaken look, Pidge had their face shoved into a book, Allura was staring out the window, Coran wasn’t readable — his daughter still behind him, smiling softly — and Shiro looked like...Lance couldn’t remember the exact expression he wore, his vision had blurred with tears.

His team was there, his _second family_ , and his sister were there.

“Hey,” he had tried to say, his voice cracked mid word. Shiro wordlessly offered him a cup of a water. Lance took it, giving Shiro a thankful look before guzzling it.

Clearing his throat, Lance had said again, but more audible. “Hey, guys!”

Silence had answered him.

“So…” Lance trailed off.

“You can’t block them out?” Veronica asked shortly.

Lance had inhaled sharply. “Right into the deep end then.” Veronica gave him an unimpressed look, he had nodded, instantly regretting the action. “No, I can’t. Haven’t been able to since the Omega Shield mission.”

“When you died.” It was a statement. Reluctantly, he had murmured a quick ‘yes’.

He had felt the horrified stares.

“You...died?” Hunk whispered. Another small ‘yes’.

“And you’re what? A...a?”

“I’m a necromancer, I can communicate with the dead,” Lance said drily. The memory resurfacing. “Shiro, you’re a medium aren’t you?”

“What _is_ that?”

“How did you know?”

Lance gave a half-shrug. “You probably don’t remember me stalking you for like a day a few years back.”

“Did you have curly hair?” Shiro pressed, certainty on his face. Lance raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you remember.”

“My parents had disappeared after that.”

Lance made an ‘o’ noise. “Yeah...I kinda promised them that I’d keep an eye on you so they could move onto the next life.” Lance winced. “You probably couldn’t understand what they were saying very well.”

Shiro shook his head. “Only heard them a few times.”

“That’s how a medium works,” Veronica had said, stepping back into the conversation. “Only at certain times you can see and communicate with ghosts, it usually becomes better with practice.”

“You know about this?” Keith interrupted.

Veronica raised an eyebrow.

  


He didn’t remember much of after that. It had become a blur of doctors and questions. When he had finally been released, he and Shiro had a long talk. Thank God.

Their first date had been _amazing_. There was no other way to describe it. They had managed to get time to themselves, stealing away to one of their apartments -- Lance remembered it being his, he had the cooking supplies -- they had attempted to cook, they managed to burn the food by getting distracted by making out. Resorting to microwaved popcorn and a movie to finish the night. Falling asleep on the couch and only regretting it some in the morning.

  


Slowly, but surely, his powers had become better. Getting rid of countless angry ghosts before they could figure out that they could touch him. The screaming lessened some.

Retiring from being a paladin had been a relief and a sorrow at the same time. Reluctant to pull away from Red, Blue, and the other lions, but a relief with the lack of ghosts out of the life that plagued him.

Sure, the city held many ghosts, but he could ignore them or after he got his license, _help_ them find justice.

  


That’s where Lance was, visiting his boyfriend who was living under a pile of books in a library they owned. Well, _Shiro_ had bought it, but got Lance’s name on it too.

Shiro climbed down the ladder.

Standing on his tippy toes because of his fiance stopping a feet above him, Lance kissed Shiro on the lips.

“Hey babe, how goes the sorting?”

“Good, solved another one?”

Lance shook his head. “Not quite. She’s a quiet one.”

His life may be weird as Hell, aliens might be real, and ghosts too, but he had his anchor. Shiro kept him steady as he kept Shiro steady. A mutual benefit on top of them being head over heels for one another.

Lance wondered if it was a dream every now and then. Whatever worries he had, Shiro helped him through. Whatever worries Shiro had, he helped Shiro through them.

Lance set his forehead against Shiro, pecking his lips again.

“Allura is up front, she’s complaining about you giving her a book that makes her cry.”

Shiro threw back his head, laughing.

 _Yeah_ , Lance thought. Life was weird as Hell still, a mess, but it was good.

  
  
  
  



End file.
